


The truth is... I am Batman

by opposablethumbs, whatthefoucault



Category: Batman - All Media Types, Iron Man - All Media Types, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Bruce Banner & Tony Stark Friendship, Bruce being Bruce, Fanart, Fluff, Gen, Halloween Costumes, High Levels Of Innuendo, Inspired by Fanart, Rated Teen for swears, Sharing Clothes, Tony Being Tony, murder twins
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-05
Updated: 2017-11-05
Packaged: 2019-01-29 23:20:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,858
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12641367
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/opposablethumbs/pseuds/opposablethumbs, https://archiveofourown.org/users/whatthefoucault/pseuds/whatthefoucault
Summary: Tony dresses up as Batman for The Wayne Foundation's Annual Masquerade Ball. Bruce is suitably unimpressed.





	The truth is... I am Batman

**Author's Note:**

  * For [whatthefoucault](https://archiveofourown.org/users/whatthefoucault/gifts).



> Art by [whatthefoucault](https://whatthefoucault.tumblr.com/)
> 
> which inspired
> 
> Fic by [opposablethumbs](https://opposablethumbs-on-aO3.tumblr.com/)
> 
> Beta'd by the ever-glowful [nursedarry](http://archiveofourown.org/users/NurseDarry/pseuds/NurseDarry)

**I _am_ Batman**

 

Natasha flipped a pumpkin spice pretzel into her mouth and cast a critical eye over the outfit Tony was currently parading about in. “I don’t know why you’re looking so smug,” she said.

Tony’s Halloween costume looked a little like he’d picked it up at Walmart, which probably meant he had, in fact, spent far too much time and money on it. Blue-grey leggings and a matching long sleeved shirt were layered under a pair of navy underpants and a blue and yellow pouched belt. In the centre of his chest, blocking out the glow of his arc reactor, sat a stylised silhouette of a bat in a yellow surround.

“Well,” he said, fixing a cape to his shoulders that co-ordinated with his external undies, “I’m Batman…”

Clint vaulted the back of the couch unnecessarily and wriggled in next to Natasha. “But you’re _already_ a superhero,” he said, “why would you want to go as a less awesome one?”

Tony stopped his preening to look at the two spies. “Firstly,” he said, “thank you for the compliment, Hawkeye.” Clint frowned and looked about to disagree, but Tony beat him to the next words. “Secondly… you know…” He trailed off with a wave of his now-gloved hands.

“Know what?” Natasha replied.

“Well, it must’ve been in his file. Surely SHIELD has files on all us ‘enhanced’ persons...”

“I’m really not getting you,” said Natasha, frowning at the bawdy winks Tony was - for some reason - shooting their way.

The man in question sighed. “I’m going to _Bruce Wayne’s_ charity masquerade ball?” he said, with a tone that implied some significance to his words. “Dressed as _Batman_?”

Natasha and Clint shrugged at him.

Tony rolled his eyes. “Just trust me then,” he said. “This…” he gestured at his own body “is hilarious.”

“But _why_?” Clint whined.

Tony smiled and pulled a cowl over his head, masking all his least recognisable features while leaving his trademark beard on display. His lips twitched and his eyes sparkled. When he spoke, it was a voice full of gravel, at least a register below his normal dulcet tones.

“Because I’m Batman,” he said. He walked out of the room with the cocky strut of Justice, only to run back in a few seconds later. He scooped up an aerosol canister from the kitchen counter. “Shit. Nearly forgot my shark repellant,” he said, and then left again.

****

“I’m sorry, sir,” the snooty doorman said, in a way that made it clear that he was most definitely _not_ sorry, “but this is a formal gala. Suits and masks, only.”

Tony tilted his chin defiantly. He gestured to his body, around the crotch area. “Suit,” he said. Then he pointed to his cowl. “Mask.”

Before the pedantic underling could bluster his way to coherency, there was a little ripple in the crowd. It parted to give way to the tall and dashing figure of none other than the event’s host: Mr Bruce Wayne, Esquire.

“Anthony Stark,” he greeted. “Glad you could join us.”

Tony smiled. “Oh you know me, any excuse for a party.”

“Your donation was most generous.”

“It’s a good cause,” Tony replied. “And sometimes you have to take off your armour to save the world.”

Bruce’s weight shifted from foot to foot, and he brayed out a laugh just a fraction too late. “Indeed,” he said. He held out his hand to Tony, and Tony sweetly sidestepped the blushing doorman to take it. As they shook, Bruce pulled Tony into a seemingly-friendly embrace. “I’ll get you for this,” he grumbled in Tony’s ear.

Tony laughed.

****

“Well I think it’s in bad taste,” said an aging socialite in a sequined dress. “After everything the Waynes have done to clean up Gotham City, coming dressed as that… vigilante.” She said the word like it tasted sour, all puckered, wrinkly lips. “It’s disgraceful.”

“Well, what do you expect of a _New Yorker_ , her taffeta-entombed crony replied, using the same lemon tone.

Neither was speaking quietly, but they clearly didn’t intend for Tony to hear. Turning his attention to them, he gave them both the smile he liked to think of as ‘the panty-dropper’.

“Ladies,” he said, in his smoothest tones, “I actually split my time equally between Manhattan and Malibu.” His smile widened. “Unlike your good Mr. Wayne, I like to think I’m disgraceful coast to coast.”

As though in possession of augmented hearing, Bruce appeared at his elbow that very moment. “Can I just steal Mr. Stark from you a moment,” he said, guiding Tony firmly away from them.

“Do you know who that was?” Bruce hissed as they cleared the floor.

Tony shrugged. “Do you think they know who I am?”

“Of course they do,” Bruce replied, more intimately as they moved further from the crowds.

“Because I’m Batman?” Tony asked in that same, rough voice.

Bruce rolled his eyes. “Not all of us get to be so flippant with our alternate identities,” he said. “Now, c’mon, in here.”

Tony let out a little yelp as Bruce shoved him through a door and into what turned out to be a study, replete with blazing fireplace.

Tony raised a quizzical eyebrow as Bruce shut and locked the door behind them. “Now, Brucie,” he said. “If you wanted me all to yourself…”

“I wanted you away from my guests before you started blabbering all of my secrets.”

“Oh not all of them,” Tony said, with a sly grin. “Do I spot a bit of Grecian 2000 at your temples? What colour is it? The Dark Night?”

“Oh you didn’t,” Bruce said, stepping closer.

“Oh, I did,” Tony replied, lifting himself up on his toes.

Bruce closed in, his hand coming up, reaching for Tony… past Tony… grabbing a candlestick on the fireplace and pulling.

The fire immediately went out, leaving the fireplace cold. The whole chimney breast turned swung around, stone grating lightly on stone, to reveal the inside of a small, plush elevator.

“Aww, you got rid of the batpole?” whined Tony.

Bruce sighed and gave the candlestick another tug. The floor of the elevator dropped out and a brass pole descended from the ceiling.

“Yay!” cheered Tony, followed quickly by a ‘whee!’ as he latched onto the pole and began the descent.

****

“I like what you’ve done with the place,” Tony said as Bruce landed a few moments after him. The vault looked not dissimilar to Tony’s own workshop, at least the portions that could be seen before the light fell off. “You use those people I told you about?”

“Mmm,” Bruce agreed, dusting off his trousers. “They were very discreet.” He frowned and glanced back at their erstwhile mode of transport. “I really must remind Alfred to polish that thing more often,” he said.

Tony laughed, eyes sparkling with mirth. His smile widened at Bruce’s frown. “Just… rich people problems,” he gasped between chuckles.

Bruce tutted and walked over towards an alcoved wall, stopping as the air in front of him started to shimmer. He pressed his palm against the barrier.

“ _Identity confirmed, access to the armoury granted,_ ” a disembodied voice said as a concealed door in the concealed cave slid silently open..

“Still not giving your AIs personalities, I see,” Tony observed, following Bruce into the gleaming room.

“No,” Bruce replied.

“Well, I guess it’s hard with no baseline.”

Bruce span on his heel, dead centre in the middle of the room, facing Tony. “Strip,” he commanded.

Tony spluttered out a reedy laugh. “Bruce, sweetie, I love you and everything…”

Bruce rolled his eyes. “Not everyone wants to sleep with you, Stark,” he grunted. “I’m just not having you run around _my_ party dressed like that. Where _did_ you get that costume?”

“Walmart,” Tony said with a shrug, toeing off his boots and shimmying out his outer-underpants.

Bruce pressed a few buttons on a control panel and a conveyor carried out a row of dangling early Batman suits. He rummaged through the collection until he plucked one from the rack and turned back to Tony.

“Woah!” he yelped. “You didn’t have to take off both sets of briefs.”

A very naked Tony Stark smiled sweetly. “Both sets?”

Grimacing, Bruce held out the very costume Tony’s cut-price version had been modelled on. “If you’re going to prance about _my_ party dressed like that, you’re at least going to do it _properly_.

Tony grinned and began pulling on the tights, bending over to tug them over his feet.

“I want that suit triple dry cleaned before you before you bring it back,” grunted Bruce as Tony’s pert bottom waved in his direction.

Straightening, Tony slipped into the top half of the costume, his head popping through the neck hole of the shirt. He lifted his eyes to meet Bruce’s. “Who’d’ve thought those two little boys who used to run off and play together while the adults got drunk would both end up superheroes; loved and reviled in equal measure?”

Bruce stared back at him and then, in a most uncommon gesture, his face split and he barked out a laugh. “Everyone,” he gasped, wiping at his eyes. “Literally everyone. Or at least they assumed we’d both turn out a little fucked-up.”

Tony fastened the utility belt around his waist with an audible click. “I have no idea what you mean,” he replied, and then added a “thanks,” as Bruce handed him the cowl.

Bruce stood back to review Tony, fully suited and booted. “Now you’re Batman,” he said.

Tony wrinkled his nose. “No, do it with the voice.”

Bruce huffed, puffed out his chest a little and dipped his chin. When he spoke again, it was in a voice that contained not just gravel but full-blown stones.

“Now you’re Batman.”

“Goosebumps,” Tony said with a smirk. “And now we should get back to the adults.”

Bruce nodded, coming to stand beside Tony and nudging him lightly with his hip.

Laughing, Tony nudged back. Then he slipped his arm around Bruce’s back. “Come on, let’s get back to the grown ups,” he said. Bruce returned the gesture, draping his arm around Tony’s shoulders.

They walked back to the main vault together and Bruce called for the elevator, breaking apart once they stepped inside. A few second’s acceleration and the doors pinged open, depositing them back into the study.

Bruce walked over to the door and opened it a crack, peeking into the hallway. “We’re clear,” he said, slipping from the room.

Behind him, Tony flung open the door and swaggered out.

“Goddamn it,” Bruce cursed.

“What? You said it was clear,” Tony replied.

The noise of the party grew as they got closer, Bruce nodding to a few spilled guests on the way. They came to a stop just outside the grand doors to the Wayne Manor ballroom and Bruce looked Tony up and down, flicking a speck of dust from the dark, satin cape at Tony’s shoulder.

Tony smiled fondly. “If I double my donation, can i keep the suit?” he said.

“No,” Bruce replied.

“I’ll double my donation anyway.”.

A ghost of a smile tugged at Bruce’s lips. “Thanks, Tony,” he said.

**Author's Note:**

> We both love talking to people! Visit [whatthefoucault's blog](https://whatthefoucault.tumblr.com/) for more of her wonderful art and fic. [Opposablethumbs](https://opposablethumbs-on-aO3.tumblr.com/) basically just wants to make you cookies and squeal about stony and stucky and stephystark. Bless her.


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